


A Perfect Moment to Die

by April_Gabriella



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Fluff (maybe?), Hannigram - Freeform, Heavy Angst, I Will Go Down With This Ship, It belongs to Hannigram, Me and Will have so many feelings, My life doesn't belong to me anymore, No Dialogue, Romantic Thoughts About Death, Suicidal Thoughts, To die in Hannibal's arms, Will Loves Hannibal, Will Wanted to Die With Hannibal, Will is ready
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-04-24 15:10:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19175866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/April_Gabriella/pseuds/April_Gabriella
Summary: Will took them over the cliff, and hoped they would die. Together forever in beautiful death.





	A Perfect Moment to Die

When Will pulled Hannibal over the cliff all he wanted was to die with him. He wanted nothing more than to leave this world in Hannibal's arms. For the last thing he would know to be Hannibal's warmth and love surrounding him. The smell of blood and death was so fitting. He loved it. He loved Hannibal and he wanted to meet his death in the arms of the only person who would ever truly see him, the only one who would ever understand. And Hannibal did understand. He didn't try to stop him. There was no doubt in Will's mind that Hannibal could have stopped him. But he didn't even try, and Will took it as a sign. Death in Hannibal's arms was how it was supposed to be. He tipped them over and hoped they would die, as one. Entangled, blurred. Together forever in beautiful death.

 

But the beautiful death he'd envisioned for them was not to be. He had woken -not in the afterlife at Hannibal's side as he had wanted- but to the bright sun stinging his eyes and pain radiating throughout his body.

But still at Hannibal's side. At least there was that.

He should have factored in Hannibal's uncanny ability to live and survive. And if Hannibal lived, he would make sure Will did as well. How could he have forgotten that? The failure of his suicide attempt washed over him in disappointing waves. He had wanted to die with Hannibal. Was ready to die with him. He felt remorse that Hannibal had not allowed them to die. Even though Will had taken them over the cliff, it was Hannibal who held their lives in his hands, and Hannibal had wanted them to live. Hannibal would not relinquish them to death just yet.

 

The days pass and recovery is slow, but their intimacy is as it has always been. Hannibal still touches him the way he always has, but Will now sees how non-platonic those touches are. How had he never noticed before? Willful ignorance is the only answer. Will had never wanted to acknowledge anything that made Hannibal seem less than the monster he was. Never wanted to even consider the possibility that Hannibal could actually _feel_ things that a normal human could, even when Hannibal had gutted him in his kitchen. The look on Hannibal's face spoke - _clearly_ \- of love and heartbreak. Will had _dreamed_ of that look. The loving and tender way Hannibal held him as he bled out between them. He _knew_ the tears falling from Hannibal's eyes were real. But in his waking hours he didn't -couldn't bring himself to- admit that Hannibal could genuinely feel such a thing. It was dangerous to believe Hannibal had actual feelings, because it meant that Hannibal had actual feelings for him. And for a long time that was too much to take in. What did that mean about him? That a cannibalistic serial killer loved him? Really and truly _loved_ _him._

In his most secret thoughts, Will knew Hannibal loved him before Bedelia said it. Why else would he turn himself in? Why else would he kneel willingly before Jack and allow himself to be locked away? There were so many times... so many... He didn't need his empathy disorder to know the truth. It was right there, written plainly on Hannibal's face. Hannibal had wanted him to see it and Will blinded himself on purpose. Stubbornly so. Refusing to admit Hannibal's love for him because then he would have to admit his own love in return.

Three years... _Three years_ Will tried to move on and forget about Hannibal's existence. But every day Hannibal was right there with him. A voice in his ear that he refused to admit he didn't want to leave behind. So it followed him, a presence at his side that he did not want to miss, but did. In the end, The Great Red Dragon gave him the excuse he needed to enter Hannibal's orbit again. To feel their connection up close once again.

_Was it good to see me?_

"Good" was nowhere close to the word for how it felt to see Hannibal again. Real and breathing in front of him. Looking at him in the way that nourished his soul. It took all of Will's reserves to hold back... until he couldn't anymore. Until he had to have Hannibal free. With him. No more glass between them, no more cameras. Just H _annibal_. After Bedelia confirmed what he already knew, he used everything at his disposal to make it happen. He had to have Hannibal back. He couldn't live without him anymore. Without Hannibal, his soul _ached_ , and Hannibal possessed the only balm. After years of fighting it, hiding it, and denying it, nothing could make that truth go away.

Poor Molly, she did all she could, but what he and Hannibal had was so much bigger than her. So much deeper than she could ever hope to comprehend. And Will didn't want her to. It was not for her to understand. It was not for her to know. It was between he and Hannibal alone. He should have known better than to think that he could ever feel contentment at someone else's side. He should have known, but... willful ignorance.

He married Molly and pretended it would be enough. He married Molly, and thought of Hannibal as he kissed her. He married Molly, and caressed the smile on his abdomen every night, thoughts of Hannibal swirling nonstop in his brain. Most nights he didn't even try to stop them. Most nights he just let them flow. Most nights he wanted to dream of Hannibal. Most nights, he did.

Denial is a powerful thing. Will utilized it in every way he could, until he couldn't anymore. Until all there was, was bright, shining truth. Beautiful truth that drove him over that cliff with Hannibal. So caught up in the feelings that all he could think of was how he wanted to die right then, before it all went to hell again. He wanted to die on the high of killing with Hannibal. Of blood in the moonlight. Of Hannibal's eyes and arms and love. He felt _so much love_ between them. There was no room anymore for denial. On that cliff Will knew for certain that he loved Hannibal. That he wanted to be with him until death because nothing else would do. Nothing else would fulfill him and there were no doubts. It was _terrifying_ in its authenticity, because he wanted Hannibal more than he had ever wanted anything in his whole life. Felt nothing but longing and love for the man in his arms. In those moments, the only answer was death. Death together because he could not be apart any longer. Better to die on this high note. He felt perfect, and he wanted to die in this perfection.

And so Will took them over the cliff. He could feel the roiling Atlantic waiting to receive them, and he welcomed it with an open heart and open arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I'm writing instead of another chapter of Old Scores.


End file.
